Perhaps the next stage of her life was about facing her problems, trying new things and… and giving love a go.
Forcing herself to ignore Rory’s bare chest, solid and firm, visible down the front of his cranberry-coloured jacket, she lay her head on his shoulder. The velvet felt comforting against her cheek. He’d be too polite to ever let slip how he must think her a joke. Her research had proved him right – and because of that, she wouldn’t blame him for keeping her at a distance. The idea of a romantic relationship with him was, now, even more implausible than ever.
‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ he said. ‘I… I’ve been holding it back since Paris.’
Oh God. What a meltdown she’d had on the aeroplane on the way there. What a relief it must have been for him to move out of her house and away from the drama. Yet he’d been there for Gary and Tahoor, a good listener during difficult times. Rory wasn’t a man to dismiss other people’s problems. And he’d shared the struggles he’d had over his mum. However, perhaps he was taking a much-needed, well-earned break from her problems, by changing jobs or taking a year out to do extreme sports. Or maybe he’d met someone. She didn’t want to hear that, not right at this moment, not when the future now looked so fucking amazing!
‘Me first,’ she said. ‘I’ve got something to show you. No one else has seen it before.’
He suggestively raised an eyebrow and she burst out laughing again. Elena stood up and took his hand, pulled him off the bed and headed onto the landing, glad to be holding on tosomething due to feeling so light as if she might blow away. Tahoor was in the hallway.
‘Wit woo, as my granddaughter Sharnaz would say,’ he called up. ‘We wondered what the hostess was up to.’
‘Tahoor!’ said Elena, trying to look as cross as possible, failing miserably, and blushing. ‘It’s nothing like that. You can tell everyone we’ll be down in a minute.’
‘No worries. Gary and Diego have roped me into a dance-off. God help my back tomorrow.’ Tahoor grinned and headed back into the lounge, carrying a bowl of crisps.
Elena walked past the spare room, where Rory used to sleep, and led him into her home office, with the tidy pen pots and stationery stacks, the minimalist décor and desk facing the wall. She stood staring at the oil painting of the cottage made from books on the wall that was several feet forwards, to the right of the window.
‘You’ve been puzzled about where I disappear to sometimes,’ she said and turned to face him.
‘Oh. Yes. But it’s private, you don’t have to share.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve checked in here at those times and the room’s been empty.’
Elena paused and then turned back to the painting. She held the right-hand side and pulled it outwards. The painting swung out like a shutter, to reveal a handle. Rory’s jaw dropped as she pulled on it and the wall halved, down a line that matched the edge of a strip of wallpaper. A door opened out. Elena didn’t stop until it was wide open and she jerked her head, indicating for Rory to follow her in. Once inside, she switched on the light and closed the door.
Rory looked around and gave a low whistle.
45
ELENA
And relax… Elena was in her special place – with Rory, who speechlessly gazed around. She was a huge fan of reading on Kindle, but paperbacks were an equal love. Three walls were lined with shelves, packed with every genre of novel and auto-biographies. The narrowest wall housed her childhood collection of books, including replacements of the ones she’d remembered Mum throwing out. On one wall the books were sorted according to colour, another alphabetically. The fourth wall had a shelf on it for teabags, coffee and biscuits. There was a mini fridge underneath. To the right of the door was a beanbag with a lava lamp next to it. In the middle of the room were a tiny table and a chair. The ceiling was sky blue and had white clouds painted on it.
‘Elena. This is so cool. Your very own library. So you do collect paperbacks after all.’
‘You don’t think it’s strange to be hidden like this? Especially as I live alone anyway.’
‘Not at all. It takes me back to being a kid… If you’ve had a shit day at school or argued with a parent, your room is a safe haven, not on show. Like when you’re a teen and have posters of your crushes on the walls. You don’t want everyone to see them.’
Rory got it. Of course he did.
‘These authors are my crushes. They’ve lifted me on so many occasions, as if they are therapists, or made me laugh, as if they’re comedians – or cry, as if they were the very best moving actor.’
Rory ran his finger along a row of book spines. ‘Damn. This room means you aren’t really an alien who’s been flying to visit the mothership every time you disappeared. What a let-down.’
‘Sorry to disappoint. I’m just a reader.’
Rory reached up to the coffee pot, having spotted something behind it. He pulled it out and twisted it in the air. A playing card.
‘The king of hearts?’ he said. The back was ornate, with a colourful pattern, and it was creased, with a tear on one corner. ‘It’s Morag’s? The one she gave you? That night, in the woods, she said the pack fell onto the grass and that was the only one that lay face up. You’ve kept it all this time?’
Elena took it from him and sat down in the small chair. Rory pulled up the beanbag and settled opposite her.
‘Yes. And when we visited her, she said it represented someone who would be important to me one day. I’ve been thinking about that since. I had a boss whose surname was King once, but he turned out to be a real creep. A friend in the sixth form had the surname Hart, but she moved away and we lost touch. I’ve hoped to find an answer and that the card would point to someone who might help me make sense of the way my life has been.’ She stared at the card for inspiration.
How odd it was, to have a guest in her private, precious den. Odd in a good way, because it was Rory. He sat, legs apart, jacket undone, completely unaware of how beguiling he was. Rory,who’d been there these last weeks, through all the ups and downs.
Elena hesitated and then took out her phone. She tapped away whilst they chatted about Paris and her parents’ gift of the trip to Berlin. He began telling her a fun fact about Berlin being nine times bigger than Paris when her typing hand dropped. Elena’s eyes remained fixed on the screen.
